Harry Potter fans will recall that the publication of 
the sixth in the series was inexplicably delayed. Later 
it was reported that some copies were prematurely sold 
from a bookstore in British Columbia, Canada. What 
actually happened is somewhat different. 

In fact someone (a mischievous editor's assistant is 
suspected) had inserted into the final proofs an extra 
70 pages or so, without of course the authorization of 
the author, J. K. Rowling, who was reported to be very 
upset that an entirely new subplot had been added, much 
of it obscene, involving underage sex, flagellation and 
various other illicit activities. 

Solicitors' letters were exchanged, and the publisher 
made an abject apology. But thousands of copies were 
printed before the error was discovered and the 
unauthorized passage expurgated. A number of copies of 
the unexpurgated version were accidentally shipped to 
Canada, with the result that some were sold, and Ms. 
Rowling sought and obtained an injunction to force the 
purchasers to return their copies. Now for the first 
time, the unauthorized chapters of the sixth book are 
now made available to the general public.



* * *



It was the start of sixth year, and Marietta Edgecombe 
was without a doubt the most miserable girl at 
Hogwarts. St. Mungo's had been a disappointment, to put 
it mildly. After a few days' treatment, the horrible 
eruptions evaporated as if by a miracle, to Marietta's 
great relief and her mother's expressions of joy. But 
the next morning when Marietta came down to breakfast, 
her mother shrieked in horror at the sight of her. 
Marietta ran to the nearest mirror, and collapsed in a 
fit of uncontrollable sobbing. 

"Whoever put this curse on you was no ordinary witch," 
explained Benevolena Vigora, head of the Extreme Curse 
unit at St. Mungo's. 

"How do you know it was a witch and not a wizard?" 
Marietta had maintained a pretence that she did not 
know who had cursed her. She had trouble articulating 
why she did so, but perhaps her blind unreasoning fear 
of renewing Hermione's wrath was one of the reasons. 
She dreamed of Hermione sometimes, invariably wetting 
the bed when she did so.

"I'm not certain", replied Benevolena. "I could be 
wrong. But whoever pronounced this maladicta went 
straight for your face and only your face. This in my 
experience is more typical of a woman." By now Marietta 
was used to the healer's frequent use of Latin terms, 
an unfortunate trait Benevolena shared with some of her 
more pompous Muggle counterparts. But she was a 
superlative healer, and no one cared about her 
eccentricities.

Benevolena continued.

"I have tried everything in my power to help you. Given 
that the sequella commenced at school, I naturally 
assumed that a student was responsible. I thought a 
simple counter-curse would do, but I was unperturbed 
when the obvious remedies failed, and revised my 
assessment to the extent that I supposed that a 
particularly gifted student had done a good researching 
job before cursing you. But I was stunned, as you 
recall, when the Purgatio charm not only failed, but 
backfired, resulting in a modified and more verbose 
version of the curse. 

"Your enemy had anticipated my use of an extremely rare 
healing charm, and had placed on you a second curse, 
one designed to be triggered by the Purgatio. This is 
not completely unknown - I have seen it in the 
literature. But to combine it with a delay mechanism, 
so that you for a day thought you were cured, only to 
wake up the next morning with the words, "Still a 
Sneak!" on your face, was brilliant - and unbelievably 
cruel. It was also without precedent. 

"I have searched through our entire library, and found 
nothing describing a curse of this subtlety. After 
publishing a paper on your condition, I consulted with 
my counterparts at every medical facility in the 
wizarding world, and in this much at least we are all 
in agreement. You have been subjected to a curse of 
unprecedented power, by a witch of singular skill, 
possessed of great hatred for you. I do not say that I 
cannot cure you. 

"It is rare that a non-fatal curse cannot be cured. But 
for the first time in my professional life, I am 
afraid. Yes, I fear to make further effort. I ask 
myself, 'How many levels does this curse have? If I try 
a more subtle remedy, will this too have been 
anticipated? Will an even more severe reaction result 
if I attempt again heal you?' So you see, Marietta, 
while I do not despair of your ever being healed, it 
may be best that another approach be tried aside from 
the medical."

Marietta had begun to sob slowly as the healer 
pronounced was sounded like a sentence worse than 
death, condemned for life to walk about the world 
disfigured. Marietta had been a very beautiful girl and 
had had many admirers. Now boys turned away from her in 
disgust. She'd stopped dying her hair, and it was no 
longer the curly-haired strawberry blond of the 
previous year, and it had reverted to its natural red 
colour. She found it hard to bother with make up or her 
appearance generally, feeling it was pointless. 
Benevolena paused while the poor girl composed herself. 

"But what can be done?" asked Marietta.

"If you can determine who did this to you, you must go 
to her and placate her any way you can. Beg, grovel, 
debase yourself - whatever it takes to appease this 
powerful witch. No one curses without motive. You have 
obviously given very serious offence, and if you search 
your conscience you might find the answer. You must 
find this witch, and if you do not know what provoked 
her, you must learn it, and make amends, any way you 
can. The only alternative to this is to spend years, 
perhaps decades, searching for a cure. I do not rule 
out that by the time you are healed, your best years 
will have passed you by." 

As Marietta made her way back to the dormitory after 
the start of term feast marking the beginning of her 
sixth year, she though again with dread about 
Benevolena's words. She knew the healer was right. 
Benevolena of course did not know that Marietta knew 
perfectly well who had cursed her and why. 

As was by now usual for her, Marietta was deeply 
withdrawn into her own thoughts, and as she trudged to 
her room she was but dimly aware of the looks she was 
getting, some pitying, others mirthful (the Slytherin 
girls in particular took great delight in pointing and 
laughing at her, happy to see what had been the 
prettiest girl in Hogwarts brought low). 

She sat on her bed for a while. She knew what she must 
do, but the thought of doing it made her dizzy with 
fear. She opened her trunk, and pulled out a large 
bottle of a deep purple fluid. Her hands trembled and 
it was difficult for her to uncork the bottle. While at 
St. Mungo's the day before leaving for Hogwarts, she'd 
gotten access to some ingredients, and had whipped 
together a Fortitudo potion (Hermione was a better 
student that Marietta, but only by a very narrow 
margin). Now she opened it, and downed a full cup. 

She quickly dashed of a short note, ran to the Owlry 
and before her artificial courage failed, sent Cyfaill, 
her barn owl, on its way with a small package 
containing the note. She had also slipped her wand into 
the package. She managed to make it back to the common 
room in time to dash to the bathroom, and vomit her 
start of term feast. She remained there for a long 
time, dry heaving. She took a powerful sleeping draught 
when she returned to her room, and quickly fell into a 
deep, dreamless, almost comatose sleep.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were at breakfast the next 
morning, cheerfully tucking into a wonderful meal of 
their favourite foods. Ron chattered on excitedly about 
the great summer they'd had, careless of the crumbs 
dropping from his mouth. Harry hardly listened, 
stuffing his face with sausages and toast. They barely 
noticed the owls arriving, or the package dropping into 
the lap of Hermione who, expecting nothing in the post, 
opened the package curiously, catching the wand as it 
dropped out.

"A package from Olivander's?" asked Harry.

"You'll never guess who - it's from Marietta!"

"The not-so-golden-snitch!" laughed Ron. "Not much of a 
snitch, if you ask me. Who'd want to catch her now?" 
Harry and Ron chuckled together. Hermione didn't join 
in. She didn't find anything funny about Marietta. 
Hermione was as angry as she'd been at end of term.

"She wants to meet me," said Hermione, "but what on 
earth is she giving me a wand for? Surely she must know 
I have a perfectly good one." Harry shared her puzzled 
expression.

"Really," said Ron, delighted for once to know 
something Hermione did not, "You'd think you didn't 
know anything unless it came out of a book," he said to 
Hermione. "When two wizards are having a duel or a 
fight, and one gives his wand up to the other, it means 
he surrenders. Obviously Marietta is telling you she 
surrenders. Obviously she's sorry and wants to talk to 
you."

"I see - it's the wizarding equivalent of a white 
flag!" said Hermione. It was Ron's turn to look 
puzzled. The note was a bit hard to read - the 
handwriting was something of a scrawl, but it asked for 
a meeting during the first free period that morning, on 
the grounds next to the lake. "Do you want us to come?" 
asked Harry. "What, to protect her from a wandless 
witch covered in pustules?" said Ron. Hermione ignored 
him. "Thanks, Harry, but I'll be just fine. I hope she 
tries something. I'd love an excuse to curse her again. 
I'll see you both at lunch and tell you all about it."

* * *

Later that day Hermione met Harry and Ron at lunch.

"The healers at St. Mungo's tried everything, but they 
couldn't cure her," said Hermione. "It never occurred 
to me that the curse would be that difficult to undo. I 
mean, I made it as complicated as I possibly could, and 
I had a lot of fun setting traps for anyone trying to 
undo the curse, but I never thought that after two 
months the healers would practically give up on it!" 
Ron and Harry exchanged looks.

"Hermione, you should know how advanced you are. You 
already are way more advanced than the average adult. 
You must have known that if you really put your mind to 
it, you could create a curse that would be incredibly 
tough to undo," said Harry.

Hermione was hurt by the undertone of reproach in 
Harry's voice, but she knew he was right. Two thoughts 
opposed each other in her mind, the first that the 
curse on Marietta was nasty and even cruel, the second 
that Marietta had richly deserved it. "But what am I 
going to do? I said I'd help her if I could, even 
though I detest her," said Hermione, for a change quite 
at loss. "I shouldn't have said even that much. She 
deserves what she got. But I suppose now I have to try 
to help her."

"You're going to have to do what you do best - go to 
the library, and start looking for an answer," replied 
Harry.

And that is what Hermione did. Once she resolved to 
tackle the problem, she felt better about the chances 
of finding a cure, thanks to a project she'd created 
for herself. All summer she'd been working on a charm 
she'd invented, and of which she was quite proud. She'd 
even broken the stricture against under-age wizarding 
to develop it, going to areas frequented by wizards to 
practice the new charm, for if she'd done it in her own 
home, where she was the only non-Muggle, the Ministry 
would have been on to her instantly. 

That night with the help of Harry's invisibility cloak, 
Hermione went to the library after hours, and with her 
under the cloak was a large cube of glass. When 
everything was quiet and the librarian gone, Hermione 
took off the cloak and got to work. It was time to try 
out the new charm. 

She walked through the library, and with a few waves of 
her wand, caused every book to be bathed in a soft blue 
light, and when the entire library was glowing, she 
said, "Indexus!" and pointed her wand at the cube she 
had brought with her. The air was filled with blue 
streaks flying back and forth from the books to the 
cube. 

When Hermione had indexed a few issues of the Daily 
Prophet at The Leaky Cauldron, it had taken only 
seconds. But in this case it looked like it was going 
to go on forever. Hermione eventually put the cloak 
back on and went to sleep on the floor. She never 
noticed that there was never any exchange of light 
between the cube and the restricted section. She woke 
up just before dawn, and the exchanges between the cube 
and the books had by then stopped. She picked up the 
cube and headed back to the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione was in heaven. She now had in her hands the 
entire library of Hogwarts (or so she thought), the 
largest library of magical literature in the world. It 
was searchable, too. Once again she found herself 
thinking about just how much the wizarding world was 
missing by ignoring Muggle learning. There was nothing 
that fancy about the charm she'd created (at least not 
in her estimation). It's just that no other wizard had 
ever thought of it. No wizard ignorant of the Muggle 
world could have possibly come up with the idea.

She had three hours to work on her research before 
everyone else would be up. By the end of it, she had 
her answer. She had another meeting with Marietta 
scheduled for that day. 

The meeting the day before had gone very badly. She had 
not realized just how emotionally damaged Marietta had 
been. The Marietta she had known had been confident to 
the point of arrogance. Tall and beautiful, she had 
walked about Hogwarts like she owned it, with all the 
boys staring at her as she passed, the girls exchanging 
jealous looks and making catty comments. 

What's more, she was a first rate student. Only 
Hermione had exceeded her performance on the OWL's the 
year before, and that was with Marietta working under 
the handicap of a horrible curse. But yesterday, 
Marietta had come across quite differently. She was a 
shattered remnant of herself. Hermione noticed right 
away the trembling in Marietta's lip and hands. They 
had walked together into the woods, down a path and 
into a clearing that gave them a little privacy.

"Marietta, you're trembling - are you ill?"

Marietta's answer was a sob. At first she could only 
make inarticulate sounds. When she finally could speak 
it was very, very hard to listen to. Marietta pleaded 
with Hermione to lift the curse - only Hermione could 
cure her - Marietta hadn't asked earlier - had been 
scared even to write to her, let alone meet or speak - 
had learned her lesson - would never, ever even think 
of breaking her word or telling on someone.

The apology went on and on. At first Hermione felt 
nothing but contempt and anger, but as Marietta 
continued it surprised Hermione to find it felt as 
demeaning to her as it was to Marietta. Marietta's head 
was bowed, her voice low, but insistent. "But Marietta, 
what makes you think I can cure this curse, if the 
healers at St. Mungo's can't?" asked Hermione.

"Oh but you can you must surely the person who put the 
curse on another can take it off oh please Hermione 
you're my only hope. . ." Marietta had dropped to her 
knees. She grasped Hermione's hand and redoubled her 
pathetic entreaties. Finally Hermione said she would 
see what she could do. She dropped Marietta's wand on 
the ground next to the broken girl. "Be here at the 
same time tomorrow," said Hermione, and with that, 
turned and walked away, leaving Marietta to compose 
herself as best she could. Hermione found herself 
regretting her promise almost instantly. 

When they met the next day, Marietta had improved 
somewhat. Having come through her previous meeting with 
Hermione without having been blasted by another curse, 
and having heard that Hermione was willing to help, she 
was beginning to feel hope again. They walked through 
the woods, and Marietta waited respectfully for 
Hermione to speak.

"I discovered a cure, two in fact, but we have to have 
a clear understanding before we go any further. The 
cure I propose to use, if I decide to cure you, is 
called the Reconcilio Ritual. It requires great skill 
and co-operation by both of us".

"What on earth is a 'ritual?'" asked the puzzled 
Marietta.

Hermione explained further. "We've never studied 
Rituals. They're not taught at Hogwarts. They are 
simply too difficult and even dangerous. They involve 
multiple spells, often using combinations of potions, 
charms and counter-curses. Occasionally certain words 
must be spoken, even though the words are not part of a 
spell, but a mere recitation. The Ministry does not 
allow anyone to engage in a Ritual unless special 
permission is granted. 

The Ritual we need to use is virtually unknown. There 
was only one reference to it in the library, a 
situation where a witch, a professor at Hogwarts in 
fact, had viciously cursed a fellow professor. The 
healers could do nothing. If the curse had been left on 
much longer, there was danger of permanent damage. The 
two professors agreed on this much, that the "cursee" 
had given offence, and that the "cursor" had 
overreacted in her choice of punishment. 

She was agreeable to lifting the curse, but still felt 
that severe punishment was required, and that her 
victim would be getting off lightly if the curse were 
lifted and no substitute punishment found. In order for 
the Reconcilio Ritual to have effect, the victim had to 
undergo a different form of punishment, sufficient for 
the witch to feel satisfied and even sorry for the 
victim. This was the easy part. 

The rest of the Ritual involved a difficult potion and 
a succession of charms. The first few are quite simple, 
but the other are easily NEWT level. I've never made 
the potion before - the ingredients are rather rare - 
and the charms were ones I'd never even heard of. Both 
of us have to perform each charm to perfection, and 
both have to help make the potion. 

"You'd agreed to help, but now your talking about 'if' 
you cure me. But haven't you already forgiven me?" 
Marietta looked crestfallen. "You're wrong. I'm as 
angry as I was at end of term," said Hermione with 
great vehemence. Marietta stumbled backwards, 
terrified. "Please Hermione don't please-"

"No, no don't worry I'm not going to blast you," said 
Hermione, "but that doesn't mean I've forgiven you. I 
feel just like the witch in the book I read. I'm a long 
way from feeling sorry for you. What you did was so 
wrong - you betrayed us. You could have had us all 
expelled, or worse." Marietta began babbling apologies 
again.

"Don't bother. It's getting tiresome. If you want me to 
even try to cure you, just listen. Did you hear me say 
at the start that there were in fact two cures?"

"Yes I did I wondered about that - "

"Quiet, Marietta," said Hermione calmly. She found 
having to talk to Marietta distasteful, and wanted to 
keep the exchange as short as possible by stopping all 
interruptions. Marietta instantly stopped speaking. 
Hermione continued. "From now on, if I ask you a 
question that calls for a simple 'yes' or 'no', then I 
want to hear 'Yes, Hermione', or 'No, Hermione'. Do you 
understand?"

"Yes, Hermione" said Marietta at once. She was 
untroubled by being ordered about by Hermione. She had 
had all summer to grow accustomed to thinking of 
Hermione as her natural superior. "The second cure is 
rather simpler. It simply requires a good healer and my 
cooperation. Now, the healers at St. Mungo's would have 
known this straight away. Did they ask you if you knew 
who had cursed you?"

"Yes, Hermione."

"And they told you that if they could find out who'd 
cursed you, they could perform a counter curse, using 
the caster of the curse as part of the spell?"

"Yes, Hermione."

"Did you tell them my name?"

"No, Hermione," said Marietta, shaking her head quickly 
back and forth, looking very alarmed.

"Now for a difficult question, Marietta. Please give me 
a completely honest answer as to why you didn't give 
the healers my name. You knew it would have quickly led 
to a cure, and a hearing for me at the Ministry for 
using an illegal curse. I would have been expelled, 
that much is obvious. The more serious question was 
whether I would find myself in Azkaban. 

You would have had your revenge. So tell me why you 
kept silent. If I am not satisfied with your 
explanation, if I think you're holding something back 
or prevaricating in any way, I am going to turn around 
and leave you just as you are, forever. Start talking." 
Hermione like using the imperative, and it was giving 
her the greatest pleasure to watch Marietta do what she 
was told without hesitation.

"Yes, Hermione. I don't want revenge on you. You cursed 
me for snitching on you and all the other members of 
Dumbledore's Army. I deserve what happened to me. I did 
it to myself - the curse automatically attached to me 
when I broke the promise I made when I signed on with 
the DA. I'm to blame. You didn't pick me to be cursed - 
I picked myself. I'd like to think that the reason I 
didn't give your name to the healers is that I've 
learned my lesson, and that I will never snitch on 
someone ever again. 

I really want to believe that. It certainly is true 
that I will never again betray someone's trust. But I 
can't say that this was the main reason I kept my mouth 
shut, or even part of the reason." Marietta paused for 
breath, tears streaming down her face, and then she 
continued. "The only reason I can say for sure I didn't 
name you is that I am completely, utterly terrified of 
you. You are not only the best student in the school, 
you are far more ability than anyone I know outside 
Hogwarts, and I think your powers even exceed those of 
some of the professors here. 

"Until the day I die I will never, ever knowingly say or 
do anything to make you angry with me. Please Hermione, 
I will do anything you ask to show you how sorry I am 
that I crossed you and the others." Hermione was 
secretly very pleased with the complement paid to her. 
She knew Marietta was too petrified to waste her breath 
on idle flattery. 

"Good. I'm glad we got that out of the way. If you had 
tried to say that you didn't tell on me only because 
you'd become a better person, I would have known you 
were lying. I don't think your answer could have been 
more truthful than if I'd given you Veritaserum. I'm 
also glad that you mentioned that you'd not only 
crossed me but the rest of the DA as well. It's 
important that you understand that. I will try to cure 
you, but the next step is up to you." Not having been 
invited to speak, Marietta only looked expectantly at 
Hermione. "As I said earlier, you still must be 
punished in some fashion that to me will seem a 
suitable replacement for the curse I placed on you. The 
ritual requires that you, not I, pick the punishment. I 
suggest you think carefully over this. Take as much 
time as you need. You might be spending a lot of time 
in the library, don't you think?"

"Yes, Hermione."

"If you choose a punishment that doesn't satisfy me, 
the ritual will simply not work, and you'll have to 
pick another punishment and try again, so I suggest you 
get it right the first time. Now hold still," said 
Hermione, suddenly pulling out her wand. 

Marietta remained still with the greatest difficulty as 
Hermione approached her. Silent tears rolled down her 
cheeks. What was Hermione going to do now? She 
struggled not to flinch, and was baffled when suddenly 
Hermione expertly performed the Purgatio charm. 
Marietta stood there in stunned silence - she could 
actually feel the blisters leaving her face.

"But Hermione - why? It doesn't work - they'll be back 
tomorrow, maybe even worse than before! - are you 
punishing me even more?"

"Meet me in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom early tomorrow 
morning, two hours before breakfast. Tomorrow when you 
wake up, the words 'Still a Sneak' will be back - 
nothing worse than it is now. I'll cleanse you again 
tomorrow morning and each morning thereafter until 
we've cured you."

"Bless you Hermione, I will never forget this!" cried 
Marietta. Hermione was already regretting her impulsive 
gesture, but she would keep her word.




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